


Under electric stars

by Rose_Brewery



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, David curates a gallery, David's asshole friends, M/M, Original Character(s), The roses never lost the money, pre-Schitt's creek ocs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-24 23:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Brewery/pseuds/Rose_Brewery
Summary: The Roses never lost their money. David is curating an art gallery opening but some of the pieces aren't in their correct places. He needs someone to move them.*"You! Handyman!" David spotted someone's retreating back and this must be one of the hired workers or whatever. The guy didn't acknowledge David even though David was sure he heard him. "The guy in the $30 Levi's! You, with the... Uh... Strong-looking forearms!"
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 23
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has some trouble and is helped by a handsome fella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are thoughts and views expressed here by David that are pretty much David pre-Schitt' creek and they do sound very cringy. But he's a good kid.

With just seven hours till opening and David making the admirable effort to get up before noon, he was faced with disaster.

Precisely twenty seven pieces were standing or hanging in the wrong spots, thirteen out of which were in the wrong frames or placed on absolutely atrocious stands David would've never approved. So someone here fucked up and it was definitely not David. His hands itched to start calling the performance artists he hired for tonight but that part of the opening was entirely on him, so he knew it was executed perfectly and there wasn't going to be a hitch in that part of the evening. The part that had to do with the art displayed today though...

It was easy to narrow the suspects to a select five. But while imagining their untimely deaths at the hand of the fugly frames they clearly didn't care to pick, was somewhat vindicating; David still had a gallery opening to curate. And all the fugly frames to deal with before it.

David shuddered, giving the completely incorrect placing a final withering glare, and hurried off to find someone in the building that could get all the things as they should be.

"You! Handyman!" David spotted someone's retreating back and this must be one of the hired workers or whatever. The guy didn't acknowledge David even though David was sure he heard him. "The guy in the $30 Levi's! You, with the... Uh... Strong-looking forearms!"  
Well wouldn't you know it, that was what got his attention. As the guy finally turned around he looked incredibly smug. And kind of cute, in your average Joe kind of way, but David was mad at him so he didn't care if that smile was cute or not.

"You need to call your crew and get them here, because the things I saw upstairs are just incorrect and the gallery can't be opened if this is what it looks like."

David looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to whip his phone out and call someone, but he just regards David with an amused expression, hands digging deep inside his pockets.

"No crew, sorry. I thought they got everything here yesterday evening."

"Good for them. But someone," David empathises with his whole body, hands moving about to get his point across. "Got the placing wrong. And now there's a whole floor here that looks like somebody barfed up a ton of paint and lead all over it." David pauses to consider. "And that's not the look I'm going for, thank you very much."

"Oh, so this wasn't intentional. Good to know. I was starting to think that this event was going to be in very bad taste."

David knew that the vein in his eye was twitching. The man was giving him a cocky smile and David had to force down the desire to just leave him and his stupid smile then and there. He still needed the guy to move a bunch of heavy stuff for him, so.

"Thank you so much for this priceless input. But now I need you to make it look the way it needs to look, because we don't have much time."

"Oh, it's 'we' then, huh?" the man's arms cross over his chest and he really does have great forearms, David didn't just imagine it. But the rest of him is infuriating.

"Yes, now can you hurry?" David turns on his heels and starts walking up the stairs to the disaster that is the second floor. He has to radiate confidence and hope that mister mid-range denim is following him. Because if he's not this whole thing is going to become a bunch of useless steps too complicated.

Some of the damn installations are over 7ft tall and David really thinks Mr handyman should be calling his crew. Instead he made David help him heft them off the walls and is now saying that _David_ should be the one to replace the frames, which, what?!

"But they're heavy." David whines, plucking at the foam bubbles decorating the frame in front of him.

"Oh are they, are they heavy?" Alright, handyman is carrying a saxophone made of shards of glass with a steel center half his height, so David might not be in a place to complain, but...

"You're just so much better at this!"

Handyman finally places the saxophone where it belongs and pauses to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

"Do you really want me to accidentally break off a piece off of something here?"

"We could just say it was meant to be experienced that way." David suggests, but he's turning his eyes skyward and sighing deliberately loud as he gets to work.

Three paintings in and still ten to go, David finally realizes something.

"What's your name?" he's handing the guy the reframed painting, so he could hang it up for David.

"What's-" he is doing something funny with his face and David mouths a befuddled 'what' at him. "Patrick."

He actually puts the painting down, leaning it against his side, so they can shake hands.

"David Rose." he introduces himself with a flourish he can't help and refuses to be embarrassed about no matter how many times his friends ridiculed him for it.

"I know." Patrick smiles back and hefts the painting back up into his arms. He's being extremely cocky for a guy moving furniture for a living.

"Oh, you a fan?"

Patrick stops to look back at him from under a cocked eyebrow.

"Didn't say that."

It goes on like this, they are busy at work, Patrick snarking way too much but they are too far in for David to just quit on the whole thing and call someone else. And it's not like David's going to admit it, but it's kind of nice. Because Patrick teasing seems to be just that - teasing. It doesn't make David feel bad and most of the times David can even laugh along. Appreciating his new acquaintance's solid muscles hidden beneath the baby blue button down is just a nice bonus.

It's been two hours and David is done with the frames. Now he's just sitting on one of the concrete blocks that makes up an art installation, watching Patrick finish hanging the last of the paintings up.

"What's your last name?" he asks, eyes trailing the stretch of Patrick's back.

"Why?" he's not even looking at David. It's mildly frustrating so David stares at his butt in retaliation. It's a very nice butt.

"I'm going to put you on the guest list."

"How generous of you."

"We'll have to get you something decent to wear. We can go shopping when you're done here." David offers. Only partially because he wants to have the changing room experience with Patrick, the man showing him how well designer clothes could look on him. The bigger part, let's be honest, was that Patrick's aesthetic could not mess with the perfect opening night.

"Oh wow, I'm looking forward to _that_."

"I'm sensing some sarcasm here. But yes, thank you. This is indeed something to be looking forward to."

"Too bad I'll have to decline." Patrick smiles up at him, saccharine sweet. He must be done, because he's right there in David's face. A few more steps and he'd fit right between David's legs.

"The gallery or the shopping? Because, trust me, if all of your clothes look like this, you're going to need my help." David's default to rejection is being condescending and he feels himself revert to that persona. And it's not like he's been rejected, but it feels like it.

"So sweet." Patrick smiles. He has a stupid smile. Matched with his warm brown eyes it does things to David's insides. Or maybe it's all because of the paint fumes. Must be it. "But I already have plans for tonight. I appreciate the offer though."

David feigns nonchalance, slipping from his seat on the block, the movement bringing him closer to stupid Patrick with his stupid eyes and stupid cheap-ass clothes.

"Has to be something important for you to miss tonight. Harry Styles is going to be here."

Oh god, he sounds so desperate. Were it any of his friends they'd already be telling him how embarrassed they were for him, but Patrick doesn't do that. Instead his hand clasps David's bicep. Oh wow, are his hands warm, even through the material of his sweatshirt David can feel how hot it is.

"It really is." Their eyes stay on each other's for something that definitely can't count as professional. And then Patrick's looking away and his hand leaves David, and David's whole body wants to just chase Patrick's warmth. "But I feel like I've gotten the most unique experience from the gallery today. Some of these are going to leave a scar."

David rolls his eyes at the terrible joke, eyes seeking out the small cut Patrick got on his arm from one of the pieces.

"It really _was_ something else. But can it not happen again because my heart can't take it and there probably won't be another good Samaritan to help me out next time."

For a moment it looks like Patrick is going to say something. Offer his phone number, David hopes. But then Patrick turns towards the sparkly painting on the wall next to them.

"And what is this supposed to represent?"

"Oh, knowing the painter, it's either something about repressing sexual desire, or letting it all out. This, actually, might've been on the floor during that orgy..." Patrick's wide eyes make David stop. "Or not. I wouldn't know."

David doesn't understand why he wants to seem better than he is in front of this cute boy. But it doesn't really matter, because this is the last time they'll see each other again.

The thought solidifies something in David. It's easier to say goodbye and wish Patrick a great evening. David'll need to find out the company that worked here and send Patrick's crew some kind of gift. Patrick's already gone when David realizes he doesn't have his last name.

He should really get laid. Soon. If a simple interaction with some random guy could make him so worked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll either be two or three chapters long.  
Will they ever meet again?!!! (Yes, obviously. They will (-: )


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's opening time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General warning for David's "friends" and some negative thoughts he has about himself.

It's eight and it's officially opening time, but nobody's going to show up until an hour in at the least. David's changed his comfortable sweater and jeans for a floral print three piece suit with a classical black dress shirt and shiny oxfords. David is careful not to outshine the artwork here, but he's not going to come to his own gallery opening underdressed.

David's going through some final check-ups for a third time, just in case, when he hears a deliberate but quiet cough behind him. David whirls around, prepared for everything to go to shit right before everyone starts showing up.

He's expecting one of the catering staff, or for Harry Styles' assistant, there to tell him that the performer couldn't show up. What he doesn't expect is to see Patrick. From earlier. Handyman Patrick.

"What- what are you doing here? I thought you had a... something tonight. Something important."

Patrick is wearing clothes that are definitely cheap, but look very nice on him. David is of a firm belief that Patrick would've benefited from going shopping with him, but he has to admit, Patrick did clean up nicely. The dark blue suit combined with the off-white dress shirt and a tie topping the whole thing off, made him look very professional. Not sure what kind of professional he'd be, but David was definitely willing to explore the options.

"Yeah. The guy I rented the building out to sent me the tickets to a gallery opening. Couldn't miss it."

David's mind blanches.

"Wait. You're not a handyman?"

"It appears that I'm not." Patrick is having fun with this whole thing, eyes amused and so bright as he smiles up at David.

"You could've told me!" David bites at his lips and closes his eyes, feeling heat creep up his neck. An ugly blush is definitely not the look he was going for tonight, so David starts fanning himself with his hands. "Was it fun for you? Lying to my face like that?"

"Yes. I particularly enjoyed the heavy lifting." Patrick huffs, but he doesn't sound mad and it makes David feel warm.

When he looks at Patrick the feeling only grows and it's becoming too much to handle too fast.

"Let's go grab some food before all the judgy people come and get these pinched looks on their faces if anyone starts eating!" David starts walking to the buffet, pretty sure Patrick will follow him.

"This party sounds like so much fun already." he comments from beside David, catching up.

"That's why we'll also start drinking."

David usually waits until the end of the night for everything to wrap up before he starts drinking, if he's hosting the event, but Patrick's soft laugh makes David throw that rule right out the window. He'll most likely regret it, but he also can't seem to care at the moment.

***

David had to leave Patrick's side to greet some of the guests or to make sure the scheduled performance is going to be on time, but he finds himself drifting back to Patrick's side at any opportunity he gets.

Patrick looks boring enough for the crowd here to ignore his existence and David knows he would've walked right past him if they didn't meet earlier that day and haven't spent time together, David finding out just how witty and snarky the man was, how strong and sturdy his body appeared to be, how kind and expressive his eyes were. And he is so thankful for that, because walking past Patrick is the greatest mistake everyone here doesn't even realize they're making. And David is so gleeful, so giddy, that he noticed Patrick first. That he saw a glimpse of what was hidden beneath that simple look and that, maybe, he would be lucky enough to discover more of what was beneath those clothes tonight.

He's busy not feeling Patrick up, because if they're going to start touching each other, David might bail on the opening and he can't have that. If anything, he's got to show Patrick that he's got stellar work ethics. And then he notices them. Alisha, Terron, Devin and Tracy and Casey. The people who are to blame for David nearly having a heart attack today. He could be a better person, he really could. He should just ignore them and not make a scene. And David was fine with them not caring about his comfort, they were friends, he was supposed to forgive them for it. But they acted like the art they made didn't matter and that was inexcusable.

David only noticed that he was clenching his jaw and fists, when Patrick's tentative fingers gently touched his knuckles.

"Are you okay? Told you not to eat the crab cakes." this instantly dissipates the sour tense mood and David is rolling his eyes in mock annoyance, shaking his hands out.

"There's nothing wrong with the crab cakes, Patrick. They are delicious." he's going to protect the crab cakes with his life. Even from Patrick. "My friends showed up. The ones that messed up their pieces."

Patrick follows David's gaze until he zeroes in on them, scanning the group with his jaw set.

"Do you need to go talk to them?"

David takes a minute to think about it, watching the people mile about, stop before the paintings and sculptures, murmur to each other about the art pieces.

"Nah. I'll do it later. I don't want them yelling at me at opening night." Patrick frowns at him at the comment and David can't stand the intensity in his eyes. So he grabs two wine glasses from the waiter passing them by and hands one over to Patrick, clinking them together before chugging down his wine in three big gulps. It's good wine and it should be appreciated, but right now it doesn't matter.

Patrick drops the subject which David is incredibly grateful for. And then they're back to making fun of the art crowd and their fashion sense. David is pretty sure there's no one in the world like Patrick.

***

Bumping into his friends was inevitable, but it still filled David's heart with dread. Sometimes he thought that dread wasn't the feeling you were supposed to experience when thinking about your friends, but he was quick to dismiss these thoughts. Nothing good came out of them anyway.

Patrick and he were over at the buffet, sneaking some shrimp for the two of them to share, when he heard Terry's unmistakable pitch:

"Oh, David. Should you really be doing that?"

"Your cheeks look chubby enough as they are, darling." Alisha. Damn, were they all here? Did they have to travel in a group like that?

"Yeah, no, I was just checking that everything was in order here." David was doing his patented laugh that he perfected over the years.

"I know a great doctor that deals with stuff like this, David. You know we'll support you if you ever decide to admit that you have a problem."

David wasn't going to react. It was fine. They were just worried about him. He was fat, wasn't he? Dammit, he shouldn't have eaten so much before the opening. Yes, fuck, he was definitely feeling bloated.

"Oh wow, this gallery is good. Don't really care about the paintings, but the food..."

David turned to look at Patrick, mortified, only to see him with a plate, brimming with everything from the table, even the damn crab cakes. And Patrick was shoving a handful of shrimp inside his mouth as he spoke. David felt a laugh bubbling up from deep inside and had to press his fingers to his mouth to keep some semblance of a straight face.

"Uh, David, did you mess something up with the guest list?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

Okay, they _were_ his friends, but they were also rude assholes. Rude assholes that couldn't do the simplest task he asked of them.

"_This_ is Patrick. The owner of this building. Who had to help me today, because _you_ couldn't match a painting to a number on the chart I sent you weeks ago!"

David might've yelled the last part. He was definitely louder when he finished talking than when he started.

Devin was the first one to roll his eyes and start walking away.

"You can call us when you're done acting like a little bitch and are ready to apologize."

Once they leave, there's a whole minute of silence where David can't make himself look at Patrick. Patrick's seen his worst side. He's seen David stuff his mouth with food and be awful to his friends and acting like-

"I thought you said they were your friends." comes Patrick's voice from beside him and David finally starts breathing again.

"They are. They're worried about me."

"No they're not." Patrick puts the overflowing plate down and turns to face David with his whole body. David mirrors his stance, following Patrick's lead. Then Patrick's hands are on David's shoulders, stroking up and down a small patch of skin between shoulder and elbow. David feels like he can't breathe again, but for an entirely different reason this time.

"Friends don't act like that." Patrick continues, his eyes set on David's. "Friends don't make you feel bad about yourself, especially not when there's nothing wrong with you in the first place." His hands stop stroking and just squeeze, tight. "If they were your friends you could've called them today and they would be here helping you fix the mistakes they made."

David feels kind of sick.

"If this is really the way it works, you're saying I don't have a single friend."

Patrick looks embarrassed all of a sudden, letting go, making David feel even worse without the grounding contact.

"Sorry, it's none of my business, but I just couldn't stand the way they were talking to you."

It's the first time someone said something like that to David, let alone felt it. David feels like he's going to hurl and when he does it'll be in rainbows and tiny pink hearts. It's just as disgusting as it sounds.

"And I'm not the owner, David. I am a realtor." this one is just too much. David can't hold it in any longer. He lets out a loud laugh he's sure his friends would call ugly. But Patrick just told him that real friends didn't do that. And he's looking at David like he's hung the moon.

"What do you say we get out of here, Mr apparently not the owner of this building?"

"I thought you needed to stay till the last guest." This isn't a no and it emboldens David.

"Oh I have to stay far longer than that."

He stretches out his arm, palm facing upwards. It's a bold move. He's assumed Patrick was flirting with him but he could just be a very nice and kind guy who didn't know the line between friendly ribbing and flirting.

The doubts dissipate when instead of taking his hand, Patrick loads another plate full of food, both his hands now occupied. They smile at each other conspiratorially and sneak out through the kitchen, David snatching a bottle of wine on the way.

David had never had a gallery opening that good. And he didn't even get to talk to Harry Styles!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter is almost done~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a date, right?

David lets Patrick lead the way to his sensible and simple black car. It's a much needed contrast to the flare and pomp of the gallery and David welcomes it, getting comfortable in the front seat with the food, while Patrick starts the car. David should ask where they're headed but it's probably to Patrick's place anyway, and Alexis isn't the only one who can get adventurous with her dates.

They park in a nice part of town, not one David would ever go to, unless he needed the authentic feel for one of the events he was hosting. But still, David can see how this space clearly works for Patrick.

"You might want to leave the food in... the car. But I see you've already taken care of your share."

David looks down at the mostly empty plate. Stress-eating is a bad habit of his, but one he can't shake.

"The drive was really long." They both know it wasn't, but Patrick lets it go with a smile and David is very thankful for it.

With a "Let's go, David!" Patrick leads him further down the block, until they get to a small bar with a neon sign and different beer brand stickers decorating the door. It's not a place David would stop by, but he's going to try and trust Patrick on this one.

"If there are beer stains on anything, I am leaving." not without complaining, naturally.

"What if it's wine stains though?" Patrick asks, glancing back at him as they walk through the door inside, heading towards a booth.

"I know you're making fun of me, but there is no way any kind of stain could be better than any other kind of stain."

"But what if it's-"

"I don't know where you're going with this but I'm going to stop you right here for both of our sakes."

They settle at the table across from each other and David takes his time looking around.

The place is tiny, just a bar, a handful of tables and a small stage in a corner. God, David hopes there won't be any performances tonight, because he doesn't see a karaoke machine and he is not equipped to handle improv. The lights are dimmed, but there are these artsy lamps dangling from the ceiling like Christmas lights and it really works for this place. The uneven soft lighting it creates hides most of the imperfections and accentuates the wood tones of the interior. Or David is smitten and would find a dumpster cute and authentic if that's where Patrick led him.

"Who's your friend, Pat?"

David cringes at the name and directs his gaze at the man by their table. He's pretty cute, with a well-trimmed beard and tattooed arms. He hands them both menus and David can see that he's wearing a tee with the bar's logo.

"Hey, Rick. It's, um... He's-"

Oh, David loves this. Flustered Patrick is apparently a thing and it was fucking cute.

"I'm David. Patrick kidnapped me from my gallery opening."

David thinks Patrick actually chokes. But this Rick guy is smiling.

"I'll have a beer, please." Patrick says a bit louder than necessary. The bartender slash waiter smirks down at Patrick and turns to look at David.

"And what about you?"

"Let's start this off with some red and a couple polar bear shots." David smiles sweetly.

When Rick finally leaves their table, Patrick lets out the breath he was holding and it occurs to David: he's not here on a date. He's here to make Rick jealous. David's been through a couple of dates like that in his life. It's at least flattering to know that the person you're with thought you'd look like a threat to the person they were actually interested in. This was not what David wanted, but he could play along. Patrick was nice and this made a lot more sense than him liking David.

David leans over, as close as the table will let him, and Patrick moves forward, looking intrigued.

"So, what's the deal here? How mad do you need this Rick guy to get before he realizes he wants in your pants? I don't want to get hit in the face." David whispers.

He's not expecting Patrick to recoil.

"What? What are you- I don't- what, David?"

"Is this not what's happening here?"

"Are you asking me if I brought you here to make someone else jealous?" he sounds so outraged. It shouldn't be as adorable as it is. It also shouldn't make David as relieved as it did. But he can't help but smile.

"Stranger things have happened." David mutters, trying and failing not to smile.

"Who would do that? That's awful."

"You need to talk to some of my exes if this is the worst thing you think can be happening right now." David pauses. "On the other hand, no. Don't ever talk to any of them."

"David, I would never do that."

For some reason David feels the nagging desire to say sorry, but then Rick is back at their table with their orders and he drowns anything else he might say with alcohol. He should just shut up. He already ruined this night enough.

The silence stretches and David can't look at Patrick. He must think David is this really terrible person, and he wouldn't be wrong. David is thinking of just calling a cab and leaving but then there are tasty garlicky snacks on the table that Patrick must've ordered while David was having his internal freak out. And he has to at least try one.

When David glances up, mouth full of crusty garlicky goodness, Patrick is smiling at him. David has to chew through his mouthful and swallow before he can smile back, which makes Patrick beam at him. David has really never met anyone quite like Patrick.

***

"This bar was the first place that felt like home when I moved." Patrick has told him that he came to live in New York a couple years back and did an odd job or two helping out at random firms before going into real estate. "It was cozy and everyone was friendly. And the open mic nights here are really fun."

"So you _do_ have a flaw!"

Patrick's eyes go comically round.

"Excuse me, are you saying that so far you considered me to be flawless?"

David pulls a face, corners of his mouth going down and heat rising to his face.

"Um. No. I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth." Oh god, what is wrong with him. David is very thankful that he doesn't just blurt out what's on his mind next. Which has to do with Patrick putting other things in his mouth.

And then he thinks: to hell with it! Why not? They're definitely on a date and this is where dates are supposed to lead.

"While I'm against doing any of it on stage, I wouldn't mind checking out some of your talents in a more intimate setting." David shimmies his shoulders and waggles his eyebrows. If Patrick didn't get it before, he should definitely be clued in now. And judging by his blush, he is.

"Uh..." Patrick looks away, rubs a hand over his mouth, looks back at David and then looks away once more. "I feel like I have to be honest with you, in order for this to work..."

Oh damn. He's married. David promised himself he was not going to sleep with anyone with a spouse, but he could make an exception for cute realtor Patrick, right?

"I've been out for two years now. And I went on a couple of dates. But it just never really worked out." David raises his eyebrows, waiting for Patrick to continue. This is not something he was expecting and he can't figure out where Patrick's leading with it. "I mean, I _know_ I'm attracted to men, there's no doubt about it." He looks at David at that, smiling shyly, and whatever secret he's trying to tell David, he doesn't even care anymore. He just wants to kiss that mouth.

"But I can't just..." he sighs, pulling at his hair in frustration and David reaches out to catch his hand in his. "I need to take things slow. And I know it can be a deal breaker for a lot of people."

David tries to imagine the losers that missed out on this: on quiet dates, and holding hands, and the softest chocolate brown eyes he's ever seen.

"I'm not sure what you think I meant, but when I said I wanted to go to your place so you could showcase your talents," David hopes his smile is reassuring. " I meant playing the flute, or scarf dancing." He pauses to bask in Patrick's quiet chuckle. "But I can wait for that. However long you need."

"Good. That's good. Will give me time to perfect the scarf dancing."

His eyes are twinkling and he squeezes David's fingers. And David tunes out his traitorous mind telling him that it's all too good to be true, letting himself smile back.

***

Patrick drives David home, he only had that one beer, switching to water while David downed his shots. They're at David's studio way sooner than either of them is happy with, but it'll be morning soon and Patrick has the awful working hours of nine to five. They already exchanged phone numbers and now they're just sitting in the car in surprisingly comfortable silence.

"So I should..." David trails off, gesturing at the door of the passenger seat.

"Yeah." Patrick mumbles. Then he's looking up, straight at David. And how is David supposed to leave like that?! "Thank you, David."

Oh fuck. Patrick said he needed to go slow but David would give anything to kiss him right now.

He watches Patrick push away from the seat, towards him, aborting the movement halfway and leaning back into his seat. This could've just been Patrick getting more comfortable or stretching a sore muscle. His eyes though, David couldn't have imagined that. His eyes were definitely on David's lips. Oh, screw it!

David started leaning in and was rewarded by Patrick meeting him halfway. David's hand found itself on Patrick's neck, framing his jaw, and he felt Patrick clutching at the material of David's suit, as if trying to bring him even closer.

The kiss was one of the most chaste kisses David's had in his life. Just lips on lips. No tongue. No teeth. And yet it made his heart race faster than if he were on drugs.

They're both smiling at each other when they part for air and it feels so good.

"Can we talk tomorrow?" Patrick asks.

And as David's using all of his moral strength to leave the car and close the door behind himself, David leans to the window to give Patrick another smile.

"We can talk whenever you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of want to make a series of this because there's a lot of fun to have with this verse. We'll see.


End file.
